


Wild || Negan *DISCONTINUED*

by Lucifers_Left_Lung



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Death, Drama, F/M, Horror, Walkers (Walking Dead), Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-08-24 09:10:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8366554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifers_Left_Lung/pseuds/Lucifers_Left_Lung
Summary: ❝The thing about hearts is that they always want to keep beating❞Madison Parker had a life once, before the end of the world. Being a librarian hadn't prepared her for a zombie apocalypse, yet she was somehow still alive. But only the cruelest and hardest people survived these days, which was why Madison had initially thought it was a good idea to go with Negan. The man was harsh and possibly psychotic, but he was in charge and seemed to do a good enough job keeping his people alive.When Negan is finally brought the group who killed several of his people, Madison expects retaliation, but even she can't prepare herself for what really happens. Unfortunately for her, she's dumb enough to intervene. Will Madison be able to escape The Saviors, now that she's seen what kind of man Negan truly is? Or will her emotions betray her?[season seven]©2016//Lucifers-Left-Lung





	1. The Saviors - Literally

The sun was just coming up over the trees, lighting up the broken world. It had been a few years since the outbreak, and I was somehow still alive. Sure, I was a bit broken myself, but that was to be expected. Killing wasn't something that came easy to me, but I'd done it more times than I could count, human or otherwise. In a world that was begging to fall apart, it was kill or be killed.

I was on my way to some place called Terminus. It was supposedly this sanctuary and I didn't really have anywhere else to go. Being a woman on her own with the world the way it was, well it wasn't really a smart idea. But I didn't have anyone else and I'd managed to handle myself so far. Handling myself was beginning to become a chore. I just needed a place to rest and be safe, if only for a day or two.

A hand over my mouth and a knife to my throat startled me out of my thoughts. Why hadn't I been paying attention? I tried to squirm out of the culprit's grasp, but it was no use. Soon, others came out of the woods, all men and all grinning nastily at me, like I was their next meal. I supposed, in some sense, I was.

"What's a girl like you doing out here on her own?" the one holding me asked.

Rather than answer the termite, I reached for the blade at my hip, only to discover that it was gone. Must be the one against my throat. I cursed silently, looking for any way out of the situation. There didn't seem to be any. I was surrounded and had a knife to my throat―

More men came out of the woods, slaying everyone around me, even the guy at my throat. The blade knicked me as his body fell to the ground. I was grateful that I'd just been saved, but still on edge. There were now even more men surrounding me. Had they just saved me to have me to themselves? Probably. Was there a chance in Hell at me getting away? Nope.

But I wasn't going down without a fight. I grabbed the knife, pointing it around the circle at all of them. I knew I didn't look threatening, but maybe I could take one of them with me.

One of the men laughed. He held a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire. His salt-and-pepper hair was combed back, his beard graying. "I figured a thank-you would be in order," he said.

My heart was pounding, the knife shaking in my hand. "Thank you," I managed, still unsure of their intentions. "Are you going to let me go?"

Another laugh, this one barely coherent. "Not exactly. See, I saved you, so the way I see it, you owe me."

"Owe you what?"

The man pursed his lips in fake thought. "Your stuff. Your allegiance." There was a beat of silence. What was I supposed to say? "Oh, how rude of me. I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Negan, and these here are The Saviors."

"What's your name?" one of the other men asked with a smirk.

"Madison," I replied. "And I'm grateful, really, but I'm just trying to get to Terminus―"

"Why go to Terminus when you'll have our protection?" Negan asked.

I let my arm drop to my side. It was clear that I didn't really have a choice. And I didn't put it past these people to kill me where I stood if I declined or put up a fight. With a breath, I nodded once. Negan grinned, pleased. As if he hadn't known I'd give in.


	2. Surrounded by Monsters

Negan was walking a few feet in front of me, swinging his baseball bat―Lucille, he'd called it―and whistling cheerfully. I wasn't so sure what he had to be so happy about, but then again, he wasn't the one surrounded by strangers. Most of them were watching me, guns at the ready, eyes roaming over me like they hadn't seen a woman in ages. Maybe they hadn't. I didn't know and I didn't particularly care.

"Where are we going?" I asked Negan, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

Negan chuckled. "Well, we're gonna make a pit stop before going back to the Sanctuary," he said. "Just so I can know for sure you'll be loyal." I didn't like the sound of that. He appeared far too pleased with whatever he seemed to have in mind.

We walked for a while before the guys made me climb into a vehicle with them. Negan drove, still cheerfully chattering and whistling in the driver's seat. I was in the passenger's seat, where Negan had laid Lucille across my lap, almost daring me to use her. There were a few more guys in the back seat and several more on the back of the truck. I wasn't dumb enough to make a move. I'd just get myself killed.

My heart was racing. I had no idea where we were going or what these people were planning to do to me. This Negan character seemed a bit out of his mind, if you asked me. Lucille was staring up at me menacingly, her barbed wire glinting light of the sun. We'd been traveling for hours, but the time was flying by. I suppose fear could either slow things down or speed them up. I was afraid of what was coming, so of course it come sooner than I wanted it to.

By the time we stopped, pulling into a clearing where there were several more vehicles, the sun was almost completely gone, being replaced by stars and a full moon. There was a small crowd, mostly of guys, but there were some women, too.

Negan stopped the truck and turned to me with that grin while the rest of his guys climbed from the truck. Grabbing Lucille's handle, Negan said, "Get ready to have your mind blown." He chuckled, as if he'd just told some joke I didn't know the punchline to.

One of the guys took me by the arm and led me over by the others, letting go of me only after pointing a gun at my back. And then we waited.

 


	3. Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe

There were about ten of them, all lined up in a half-circle. Negan was in a white RV, while his henchmen got everyone in their places. The guy standing behind me pushed me forward with his gun, the barrel poking into my back a bit painfully. I gave him a horrified look and he grinned at me, nodding towards the group on their knees. I was meant to join them. The gun prodded at me again and I slowly walked over to where the others were kneeling. I stood there, shaking; the guy in charge of me pushed me to my knees roughly.

Some of the others lined up beside me were looking at me, probably wondering who the hell I was and why I was on the ground with them. What I had done that warranted this? Whatever it was that Negan was going to do to these people. He didn't seem like the type to play around, though his demeanor could be a bit misleading in that respect. Funny―charming, even―but with a serious and dangerous undertone.

Negan walked out of the RV, Lucille swung over his shoulder. He stopped in front of us all and looked down the line, pausing on me with a grin. Negan winked at me and my stomach dropped. This was all a game to him, it seemed. He was the only one having fun.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Negan. I don't wanna kill you people; I want you to work for me. But you killed my people. And for that, you're gonna pay." I didn't even know what he was talking about. Or why I was being included in this lineup at all. "I'm gonna beat the holy hell outta one of you."

Negan started walking around the lineup, playing Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe. Every time Lucille pointed to someone, my heart dropped. Soon Negan was pointing her at me, saying, "Meeny" and I was sure he would just end it there. But I was thankfully wrong. He kept going until he decided on a large red-headed man.

"Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy's other eye out and feed it to his father and then we'll start," Negan said, keeping his eyes on the man he'd selected. "You can breathe, you can blink. You can cry. Hell, you're all gonna be doin' that."

People were screaming as Lucille came down in an arc―I looked away before she made contact. I barely heard Negan saying something, but my ears were ringing, my entire body shaking, my eyes clenched shut. I couldn't believe what was happening. With every sound of Lucille hitting the unlucky man Negan had chosen, I jumped.

Thankfully, it was soon over.

"What? Was the joke that bad?" He was still grinning.

Negan chuckled to himself and starting walking towards me. He knelt in front of me, using Lucille as a crutch. "You're probably wondering why you're here, ain't you, sweetheart?" he asked me quietly. I nodded, unable to find my voice. "For now, it's just to show you who I am and who's in charge." Negan smiled at me. "But that could change," he said with another wink.

"I'm gonna kill you," one of the guys down the line from me said so quietly that I'd almost missed it.

"What?" Negan said, standing from his place in front of me to go kneel in front of the other guy. "I didn't quite catch that. You're gonna have to speak up."

"Not today, not tomorrow...but I'm gonna kill you."

Negan inhaled sharply. "Jesus," he said with a laugh. "Simon, what did he have, a knife?"

"Uh, he had a hatchet, an ax," Simon replied.

Again, Negan chuckled. "Simon's my right-hand man," he said to the man in front of him. "Having one of those is important. I mean, what do you have without them? A whole lotta work. Do you have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing? Oh―or did I―?" A sigh. "Sure. Yeah. Give me his ax."

Negan took a deep breath and grabbed the man, dragging him behind as Negan headed for the RV. "I'll be right back," he said, stopping only to look back at us. "Maybe Rick will be with me. And if not, well, we can just turn these people inside out. I mean, the ones that are left."

There seemed to be a slight collective sigh of relief that Negan was gone for the moment, but that was soon replaced by the obvious air of fear for their friend, Rick, and what Negan would do to him.

 


	4. Round Two

My heart was still racing, though I'd calmed down a bit, when the RV pulled back into the clearing. The door swung open and Negan led Rick back into the center of the clearing, Rick back on his knees. He looked broken to me, but Negan seemed to disagree.

"Let me ask you somethin', Rick," Negan said; he had Lucille in his hand. "Do you even know what that little trip was about?" Rick didn't say anything. "Speak when you're spoken to," Negan said firmly.

"O-Okay," Rick replied shakily.

"That trip was about the way you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand. But you're still looking at me the same damn way, like I ship in your scrambled eggs. And that's not gonna work. So. Do I give you another chance?" Negan asked Rick.

Rick breathed. "Yeah. Yes."

Negan laughed. "All right. And here it is, the grand-prize game. What you do next will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone's last crap day or just another crap day. Get some guns to the back of their heads," Negan said to his men. "Good. Now, level with their noses. so if you have to fire―" Negan imitated an explosion, "it'll be a real mess. Kid," he said to young guy close to me, "Right here." Negan pointed to the ground in front of him. "Kid. Now."

The young guy slowly got to his feet and walked over to where Negan was standing. "You a southpaw?" Negan asked him.

"Am I a what?" the kid replied snidely.

"You a lefty?"

"No."

"Good." Negan took off his belt and started tightening it around the kid's upper arm. "That hurt?"

"No."

"Should. It's supposed to. All right. Get down on the ground, kid, next to Daddy." The kid got on the ground. "Spread them wings. Simon, you got a pen?" Simon handed Negan a pen. "Sorry, kid. This is gonna be as cold as a warlock's ball-sack, just like he was hanging his ball-sack above you and dragging it right across the forearm. There you go. Gives you a little leverage."

Rick was shaking; I could see him from where I was knelt in the dirt. He wouldn't look at Negan, but he was looking down at his son in horror, like he knew what was coming. I could guess, since there was an ax laying there.

"Please," Rick said, his voice quivering. "Please. Please don't."

"Me?" Negan replied with a chuckle. "I ain't doing shit. Rick, I want you to take your ax and cut your son's left arm off, right on that line. Now, I know―I know. You're gonna have to process that for a second. That makes sense. Still, though, I'm gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then Carl dies, then the people back home die and then you, eventually. I'm gonna keep you breathing for a few years, just so you can stew on it."

"You―You don't have to do this," a woman said. She was placed farther down the line from me so I could see that she was black, with dreads, a kind face. She was brave, taking up for them like that. Maybe if we were all that brave, we'd have a fighting chance. "We understand," she continued. "We understand."

"You understand," Negan said.

"Yeah."

Negan pursed his lips. "I'm not sure that Rick does. I'm gonna need a clean cut right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed up thing to ask, but it's gonna have to be like a salami slice―nothing messy. Clean, forty-five degrees―give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. The kid'll be fine." Negan paused. "Probably," he added with a smirk. He seemed to be growing impatient. "Rick, this needs to happen now―chop, chop―or I will crush the little fella's skull myself."

Rick was crying by this point and my heart ached for him. "It can―It can be me. It can be me. Y-You can do it to me. I can go w-with you."

"No," Negan answered heartlessly. "This is the only way. Rick, pick up the ax." Rick didn't move. "Not making a decision is a _big_ decision. You really wanna see all these people die? You will. You will see every ugly thing." Still, Rick didn't move. "Oh, my God. Are you gonna make me count? Okay, Rick. You win. I'm counting. Three!"

"Please," Rick begged, sobbing. "It can be me!"

"Two!"

"Please, don't―"

"This is it!"

"Stop!" I shouted, standing, not even really caring anymore about the gun at my back. I was surprised they hadn't fired yet. "Stop! For God's sake."

Negan shook his head once and I assumed he was telling whoever not to shoot me. I wasn't sure why. Negan laughed once. "Get back in line," he said sternly. "Or I'll make you cut the kid's arm off." Negan nodded and someone grabbed me, forcing me back onto the ground. I didn't know any of these people from Adam, but this was...insane.

Negan glared at me for a second before turning back to Rick, who was still sobbing on the ground. "One more, Rick," he said. "And then all your friends are gonna die. Do it!" I jumped at the sudden raise of his voice. The guy next to me was sobbing, his hands over his face.

Slowly, Rick picked up the ax, his hand trembling. He lifted it and I closed my eyes.

"Rick," Negan said calmly. I glanced at them once more. Nothing had happened; Rick was still holding the ax. "You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?" Rick said nothing. "Speak when you're spoken to! You answer to me. You provide for me."

"Provide for you," Rick said, seemingly finally numb.

"You belong to me, right?"

"Right."

"Right. That is the look I wanted to see. We did it. All of use, together―"

Suddenly, one of the other guys was on his feet, his fist connecting with Negan's jaw. Rick shouted, "Daryl, no!" as Negan staggered, his guys putting the other one back on his knees.

Negan chuckled. "That? Oh, my! That is a no-no," he said, that grin on his face. "The whole thing―not one bit of that shit flies here."

"Do you want me to do it?" Negan's guy asked, his gun to the back of Daryl's head.

"No," Negan said. "No, you don't kill them, not until you try a little. And anyway, that's not how it works. Now, I already told you people―first one's free, then―what'd I say? I said I would shut that shit down. No exceptions. Now, I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with, but I'm a man of my word. And y'all have had far more than one more chance. Should've stopped this shit when that one spoke up." He pointed to the black girl, then shot me a look.

Negan sighed. "Get back in line," he said to Rick and his son. They obeyed numbly. "First impressions are important," Negan continued. "I need you to know me. So, back to it."

Negan slammed Lucille into another guy's head. I heard the _crack_ from where I sat, all the way across the clearing. A woman was screaming, the guy beside me was crying even harder than before, if that were possible. And Negan, of course, was only amused. I reached over and put my hand on the stranger's beside me; he squeezed it without looking at me.

"Buddy, you still there?" Negan said. My stomach was churning and I thought I was going to be sick. Stress, fear, and someone getting their head bashed in would do that to a person. "I just don't know. It seems like you're trying to speak, but you just took a hell of a hit. I just popped your skull so hard, your eyeball just popped out, and it is gross as shit!"

The bleeding guy was saying something, but I was too far away to hear. The screaming woman was now sobbing, but no one else dared to move.

"Oh," Negan said after he'd finished the guy off. "Oh, hell. I can see this is hard on you guys. I am sorry. I truly am. But I did say it. No exceptions!" Negan looked around at us all. "You bunch of pussies."

Negan stretched and cleared his throat. "Today was a productive damn day!" he exclaimed. "Now, I hope, for all your sakes that you get it now, that you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you―that is over now," he said with a chuckle.

"Ah, Dwight, load him up." Dwight grabbed Daryl and shoved him into the back of a van, the doors closing after him. "He's got guts―not a little bitch like someone I know. I like him. He's mine now. But you still want to try something? 'Not today, not tomorrow. Not today, not tomorrow.' I will cut pieces off―the hell's his name?"

"Daryl," Dwight answered.

"Wow," Negan said with a laugh. "That actually sounds right. I will cut pieces off of Daryl and put them on your doorstep―or, better yet, I will bring him to you and have you do it for me." Negan laughed. "Welcome to a brand new beginning, you sorry shits! I'm gonna leave you a truck. Keep it. Use it to cart all the crap you're gonna find me. We'll be back for our first offering in one week. Until then, ta-ta."

Negan pointed to me. "You, you're coming with me," he said, grabbing my arm. My hand slipped out of the man's, whose name I hadn't had a chance to learn, as Negan forced me towards another vehicle roughly.

I didn't know what he wanted with me. And I was afraid to find out.


	5. Trapped By a Monster

It was just Negan and I in a truck. This time, he kept Lucille tucked between his leg and the door, too far for me to reach. Maybe he was afraid I would try something if Lucille was too close, but he didn't seem like the type to be afraid of anything. I tried to ignore the sick feeling in my stomach as he drove silently. He liked to talk, I knew that much, so the fact that he was so quiet was a bit unsettling.

"That was a real damn stupid thing you did," Negan said finally. I wasn't sure what to say to him―hell, I was almost too afraid to speak at all―so I just remained silent, staring straight ahead. "Tryin' to make me look like a fuckin' fool, huh? I shoulda killed you right then, saved myself some trouble."

"So why didn't you?" I found myself asking.

Negan smirked and looked at me from the corner of his eye. "You're more use to me alive than dead," he said. That wasn't too comforting.

Soon enough, we pulled up to a factory. Negan hopped out of the truck and came around to open my door, pulling me out after him. He kept his grip tight on my arm as he led me through the factory. We passed a garden, a place where people were hanging laundry. And then we were standing in front of a fenced off area that was filled with walkers. There were a few people inside the fence.

Negan slammed me against the fence, which got the attention of several walkers. "See that?" he said. "I thought about just throwing you in there for punishment. Then I had an idea." Negan grabbed me by the back of the neck and pulled me away from the fence, forcing me to look at him. "I'll give you a choice. Join me, prove your allegiance to _me_ , and I'll let you live. You'll have a good life."

I was shaking and I hoped he didn't notice. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to glare at him, to look braver than I actually was. "Is there a third option?" I asked.

Negan frowned. I suppose he had been hoping I'd be scared enough not to ask, but to simply agree with whatever he wanted. He did seem to have that affect on people. His smirk returning, Negan shook his head. "It's either them," he nodded towards the walkers in the fence, "or me."

"I can see you're having a hard time deciding," Negan finally said when I didn't answer him. "Maybe you should sleep on it."

Negan's grip on my arm was tight as he half-dragged me to a row of makeshift cells. He opened the door and shoved me inside; I landed on the ground on my hands and knees. "I'll be back for you in the morning," he said and closed the door, locking me in darkness.

The room was freezing; I curled up in the corner, ignoring the scrapes on my hands from being thrown on the floor. My knees were sore from kneeling all night in that clearing and my heart hurt. I pulled my jacket tighter around me and fought back the tears that were threatening to spill. How the hell had I ended up here? Negan had chosen to save me and somehow I was now his prisoner. I'd put grouped with people I didn't know, forced to watch them be broken and killed, almost been killed myself. But by some miracle, I was still alive. I wasn't sure if that would be the case tomorrow, though. I had a lot of pride and though the thought of death was terrifying, the thought of literally bowing to Negan was even more so.

 


	6. Giving In

When the door opened, I'd only just finally gotten to sleep. Negan was standing there, staring down at me, that seemingly permanent smirk on his face. I stared up at him through tired and burning eyes, my body sore from the hard floor and my sitting position. All I wanted in that moment, more than anything, was to go back to before Negan had found me. If I could, I'd go back and take another route towards Terminus. But I knew I couldn't, so I just stared up at Negan, trying to mentally and physically prepare myself for whatever he was about to do to me.

"C'mon," he said. "I wanna show you somethin'."

Slowly, I got to my feet, my joints popping from not being used in hours. For a second, I considered asking him where we were going, but decided against it. Negan wasn't the type of person I was used to deal with. Sure, I'd dealt with bad men―and women―but Negan was different. He commanded respect without even doing anything. He was scary and I hoped I was smart enough to not fuck with him. Otherwise, I'd end up like Rick's friends. Dead.

"Someone's quiet this morning," Negan commented, Lucille resting on his shoulder.

"Not really much to say," I replied quietly.

Negan chuckled. "I think you'll have somethin' to say in a minute."

I silently followed Negan through the factory. There were people milling around, doing various things; I ignored them, hoping they would ignore me as well. The last thing I wanted was extra attention from anyone. I was already getting enough of that from Negan himself.

Negan opened a door and led me outside. There, I saw Daryl. He was in a sweatsuit and surrounded by several of Negan's men. "Now, sweetheart," Negan said with a glance down at me. "Watch this. Learn from it." Negan grabbed my upper arm and placed me in the circle between two of his guys.

"Who are...you?" Negan asked, staring at Daryl, but using Lucille to point back at one of his men.

"Negan," the guy responded.

"Who are...you?" Negan said again, this time pointing with Lucille at the next guy.

"Negan."

"Who are you?" he asked the whole group.

Everyone except Daryl and I replied, "Negan," as a whole.

Negan chuckled. "You see that?" he asked Daryl. "I'm everywhere. And this was your shot to prove to me that that fundamental fact was sinking in, and you failed. Which sucks, because your life was about to get so much cooler. Am I right?"

"Damn right," the guy beside me answered.

I was watching Daryl. He wasn't breaking. I wished that I was as strong as Daryl, but I knew I wasn't. Even though I had somehow managed to survive this long, I would survive Negan, not if I allowed myself to be as prideful and stubborn and strong as Daryl. I knew I wouldn't.

Negan laughed. "Now, Dwight gave you some options. I don't think you get it yet," he said. "So I'm gonna break it down for you. You get three choices: one, you wind up on the spike and you work for me as a dead man; two, you get out of your cell, you work for point, but you're gonna wish you were dead. Or three, you work for me, you get yourself a brand new pair of shoes, and you live like a king! Choice seems pretty obvious. You should know, there is no door number four. This is it. This is the only way."

Negan grinned at Daryl, who was simply glaring at him. "Ah, screw it," Negan said swinging Lucille at Daryl's head. He stopped just short of hitting him. I realized I was the only one who'd even jumped. "Wow! You don't scare easy. I love that. But Lucille―Well, it kinda pisses her off. She finds it to be disrespectful. Lucky for you, she's not feelin' too thirsty today. But I am." Negan leaned in, his expression serious for once. "So I'm gonna go...get me a drink!" He laughed and started walking away, pushing past me as his guys closed in on Daryl.

I started to follow him, but he turned back and shook his head at me. "You got the same three choices," he said. "And here's where you make yours. Follow me back inside to your cell or," Negan nodded towards where Daryl was getting beat up, "or choose door number three."

Looking back at where Daryl was still getting the shit beat of him, I silently begged whoever was listening for forgiveness. It wasn't that I _wanted_ to have any part in hurting Daryl. In my opinion, he'd been hurt enough. But I had to do what I had to to survive. With one last glance at Negan, who was grinning triumphantly, I made my way to Daryl and started kicking him.

I didn't realize I was crying until it was over.

 


	7. Alexandria

My cell door opened. The entire night, I'd relived what I had taken part in. Daryl had never done anything to me. I didn't even know the guy. Yet I had been so quick to hurt him to help myself. What kind of person did that make me? Being terrified was no excuse to throw away my empathy, my humanity. I knew that. I couldn't take back what I had done, but maybe I could find a way to help Daryl somehow. Then again, this was Negan I would be dealing with. Probably best to leave it alone and survive as best I could. If an opportunity to help Daryl presented itself, I would.

Dwight was standing in the doorway, frowning down at me. "Who are you?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

I bit my bottom lip and cursed myself. "Negan," I whispered.

"What was that? You're gonna have to speak up."

"Negan," I said, my voice louder.

Dwight raised a brow. "At least one of you has some sense," he mumbled. "All right, let's go." Dwight grabbed me under my arm, hoisting me to my feet. "You know how to use a gun?" I nodded. "Good, Negan'll be happy to hear that."

I let Dwight keep his hold on my arm and lead me down the hallway to another room. This one had a bed and a table, some windows. There was a set of clothes on the bed, some boots on the floor. The room was the nicest I had seen in a very long time. Every house I'd been to had been turned upside down, blankets and clothes stolen. Some had even had the mattresses cut up. Why, I wasn't sure. Probably just some heathens trying to make them useless for others.

"Put those on," Dwight commanded. "And hurry up, we gotta get goin'."

I stopped just inside the room, turning to look back at Dwight, whose hand was on the doorknob. "Wait," I said. "Where are we going?"

"Alexandria."

"What? It's only been three days."

Dwight licked his lips, this annoyed expression on his face. "Look," he said, "I don't make the rules―Negan does. So―Just stop asking questions and get dressed." Dwight closed the door before I could speak again.

* * *

When we arrived at Alexandria, I noticed Daryl in the crowd. Unlike me, he didn't have a gun or even regular clothes. He was in sweatpants and a sweatshirt that had a large 'A' on the front. He looked like shit, as I imagined I had that morning. Daryl glanced at me, then turned away and I immediately felt guilty all over again for what I had done to him. My stomach turned at who I had become, how I had changed so drastically in an instant.

Negan was smirking at me when I looked at him. He knew what was going through my mind. He knew that I was regretting everything and questioning who I even was anymore. And, of course, it was amusing to him. I hated him. My hands tightened around the gun in my hand and for an instant, I considered shooting him then and there. Negan must have sensed that, because he raised one brow, almost daring me. But I knew I'd be dead before I could even pull the trigger. And he knew I knew that.

With a chuckle, Negan turned to the gate. "Dun, dun, dun, _dun_ ," he said, his voice mockingly ominous, before banging Lucille against the gate a few times. "Little pig, little pig! Let. Me. In." Slowly, the first gate opened. I could see another man standing on the other side. "Well?" Negan said when he didn't open the second gate.

The guy on the other side gave Negan a peculiar look. "Uhm, who are you?" he asked Negan. I held my breath. Was he seriously trying to be funny or was he just stupid? I knew he hadn't been there the night his friends had been killed by Negan, but there was no way he hadn't heard the gory details.

Negan grinned, but there was ice behind it. "Oh, you better be jokin'," he said. "Negan, Lucille. I know I had to make a pretty strong first impression." Rick walked up to the gate then and Negan focused his attention on him. "Well, hello there," he said to Rick cheerfully before his tone turned serious. "Do not make me have to ask."

Rick opened the gate. The next while went by in a blur. Negan forced Rick to carry Lucille, then sent his men off to collect their half of Rick's stuff, while Daryl and I were told to stay by his side. He didn't trust me with a gun by myself yet―especially around Rick and his people―and Daryl was there probably just to torture Rick some more.

As we were walking, following Negan and listening to him talk, Rick kept shooting glares in my direction and worried glances in Daryl's. It was clear that I had given in and Daryl hadn't, which automatically made me an enemy in Rick's eyes. I hadn't planned on becoming anyone's enemy. I'd gotten sucked into this whole mess without even meaning to. Before the Daryl situation, I hadn't done anything wrong, had done nothing to deserve any of this shit. They were the ones who had killed Negan's men. I'd stood up for them. And this was what I got for it: I had chosen to be Negan's little bitch in exchange for a slightly simpler life, and Rick hated me for it.

We were all standing in a small graveyard when we heard it: a gunshot. Negan gave Rick a warning glare and then we were heading in the direction of the shot. Inside a house, we found Carl, a gun in his hand. It was pointed at one of two of Negan's men. They both had stuff in their hands. The one on the bad end of Carl's gun had a box full of medicine.

"Carl, Carl," Rick said when we entered. "Put it down."

"No," Carl said. "He's taking all of our medicine. They said only half our stuff."

Negan slowly stepped in front of the gun. "Of course," he said slowly with a slight chuckle. "Really, kid?"

"You should go, before you find out dangerous we all are." I once again found myself holding my breath. These people were far braver than I was, that was for sure. Standing up to Negan like this was...insane.

Negan still managed to look amused. "Well, pardon me, young man," he said. "Excuse the shit out of my goddamn French, but did you just threaten me? Look, I get threatening Davey, here, but I can't have it. Not him, not me."

"Carl, just put it down―" Rick started.

"Don't be rude, Rick. We are having a conversation here. Now, boy, where were we? Oh, yeah. Your giant, man-sized balls. No threatening us." Carl didn't move. "Listen, I like you, so I don't wanna go hard, proving a point here. You don't want that. I said half your shit―half is what I say it is. I'm serious. Do you want me to prove how serious? Again?"

Carl sighed, giving up. He handed Rick the gun and spotted me. I half-expected him to say something. If he could stand up to Negan, of all people, he could tear me to shreds, but he just glared at me. I could almost feel the hatred coming off him in waves, it was so strong. I wasn't sure if it was all for me―I imagine not―but he definitely wasn't happy with me. For some reason, that bothered me more than I cared to admit.

 


	8. Change

Negan sighed as he stared at Rick. "You know, Rick," he said, "this whole thing reminds me that you have a lot of guns. There's all the guns you from my outpost when you wasted all my people with a shit-ton of your own guns, and I'm bettin' there's even more, which adds up to an absolute ass-load of guns. And, as this little emotional outburst just made crystal clear, I can't allow that." Rick shot Carl a look and I almost felt sorry for them all. Until I remembered that I wasn't allowed to feel sorry for them. "They're all mine now," Negan continued. "So tell me, Rick: where are my guns?"

We followed Rick to another house and waited silently while a garage door opened. The air around us was so tense, I almost couldn't breathe. Negan had rounded up a few more of his people to help load up the guns, so at least I wasn't alone with a maniac and two people who despised me. For now.

A woman was standing on the other side when the garage opened. "I figured you were coming," she said.

"Show him where the guns are, Olivia," Rick said to the girl.

"The armory's inside."

"You run the show in here?" Negan asked her.

"I just keep track of it all, the rations, the guns."

"Good. Smart. Don't let me stop you."

We all followed Olivia towards the back. There was a wall of guns, tables covered in them, along with ammunition. I hadn't ever seen so many guns. I grabbed a box and slowly started loading guns and bullets into it. I wanted to get a moment alone with Daryl so I could apologize―for what, I wasn't sure, but it felt like I should. After all, he'd had the strength to say no to Negan over and over, even after we'd beaten him. Yet, I couldn't even last two days.

Surprisingly, Daryl and were the only two left in the room. I wasn't sure how long I would have, so I stopped and turned to him. "Daryl, listen―" I started, but the look he gave me cut me off.

"Don't," he said, and walked off.

With a heavy sigh, I grabbed my box and stalked out of the room after him. When I got outside, I saw Negan pointing a gun at Rick. Surely he wouldn't shoot him so soon? But Negan shot a window, chuckling as the glass cracked. I jumped at the sound of the shot and Negan laughed at me; Rick didn't move.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Negan asked me. "Never shot a gun before?"

Before I could muster a reply, one of Negan's people came out, her hand roughly on Olivia's arm, dragging her along. There was a notebook under her arm and a frown on her face.

"Arat," Negan said firmly, "we don't do that unless they do somethin' to deserve it."

"Yeah," Arat replied confidently. I silently wondered if I would become like her, eventually. Tough and unafraid, able to actually speak to Negan without my heart pounding out of my chest. I hoped not. I'd rather die than become the type of person who _wanted_ to work for Negan, the type of person who _enjoyed_ it. "Guns in the armory, guns they had around the walls, they're short," Arat continued. "Glock 9 and a .22 Bobcat."

Negan took the notebook from Arat. "Is that true?" he asked Rick.

Rick looked scared to death. I couldn't blame him. From the serious look on Negan's face, this wasn't going to end well. I knew I was supposed to probably be helping load up the rest of the guns, but I couldn't move, afraid that if I left, when I came back, someone would be dead.

"We had some people leave town," Rick said nervously. "Those guns probably went with them―"

"So Olivia sucks at her job," Negan interrupted. "Is that what you're sayin'?"

"No. No, I'm not saying that."

Negan turned to Olivia, who was visibly shaking. "There should be a full accounting here, right? Top to bottom. Am I right?"

"No," Olivia said, then quickly corrected herself. "I mean, yes. The inventory is correct."

"Good. But not so good, too. You see, what's in here...isn't in there. You're two handguns short. Do you know where they are?"

"No, I..."

Negan sighed. "That's disappointing, Rick," he said. "I thought we had an understanding. But this―well, this shows that someone's not on board, and I can't have that." Negan looked to Olivia. "I don't enjoy killing women. Men―I can waste them all the live long. But at the end of the day, Olivia, my dear, this was your responsibility."

God, I was stupid. "Maybe they just misplaced them," I interjected.

Negan slowly turned to look at me, licking his lips. He smirked at me. "Did I miss something here, Madison, or do you work for me?" I bit my lip and looked to Rick, as if he were suddenly going to come to my rescue. "Don't look at him," Negan said sternly. "Look at me when I'm talking to you. You work for me―alive or dead. You made a choice the other day, but I can change that in a fuckin' snap, you hear me? Do not speak unless you're spoken to from now on." I didn't move. "Do you understand me?"

I swallowed and nodded.

"Good," Negan said in that painfully cheery way of his. "Now, where were we? Oh, right. Olivia."

Rick finally found his voice. "Look, we can work this out―"

"Oh, yes. We can. And I'm going to―right now." Negan turned to Olivia, who was crying by this point. I looked at my feet. "This was your job, and you screwed up. Keeping track of guns? That shit is life and death." Negan's finger hooked under my chin and he forced me to look at him. "They're gonna find my guns, and if they don't, _you_ will do the honors."

"Honors?" I asked dumbly.

Negan grinned at me like he was giving me a Christmas present I was sure to love. "If they don't find my guns, you're the one killin' Olivia." I didn't reply. My face was still in Negan's hand, forcing me to look him in the eyes. "Is that problem?" He was daring me to speak against him again, but I couldn't allow myself to be so stupid. That was what had gotten me into this mess in the first place. I could only hope they found the guns so I wouldn't have to kill Olivia.

"It's not a problem," I said.

 


	9. The End of Times

_The library was quiet, which wasn't really abnormal for a library. The thing about it was that people weren't being quiet just because it was a library. People were quiet because they were captivated by what was happening on the news. All over the country, there were shootings and people going mad, eating one another. I hadn't ever seen anything like it. It was like something from Dawn of the Dead, except zombies didn't exist, did they?_

_My cell rang then, but no one paid attention to the loud ringer. No one cared. The caller-ID told me it was my mother. She and I weren't exactly on speaking terms, so I knew if she was calling it had to be important. The last time we'd had any communication at all was three months earlier when my sister had had her baby shower._

_Reluctantly, I answered. "Hi, Mom," I said as cordially as I could muster._

_"Madison, oh thank God," she replied, sounding worried and out of breath. "Have you seen the news? Are you sick? Honey, you need to come home now."_

_After checking everyone was still totally engrossed in the news, I walked outside. Everything looked completely normal, which only made my mother's worries seem less...well, worrisome._

_"Mom, what are you talking about?" I said. "I'm fine, everything's fine. Besides, I can't just drop everything and drive three hours to your house simply because some random stranger on the news got a cold."_

_"A cold? They're eating each other, Madison. This is serious. The end of times. You need to be with your family."_

_I rolled my eyes._ Here we go _, I thought. My mom was always going on about the Bible and the End of Times. This stuff happening in the news was just fuel to her fire and this conversation was a reminder of why my mother and I rarely spoke._

_"Mom, you know I don't believe all that Bible gibberish," I said. "Look, is anyone there sick?"_

_My mother hesitated. "Well, no," she replied._

_"Okay, then. Neither am I. Everything's fine. We'll talk more soon." Ignoring my mother's protests, I hung up the phone and ran a hand through my hair with a sigh._

* * *

_"My mom called me today," I told Travis, my fiance. He and I were at dinner. It was nothing fancy―he knew that I preferred pizza to caviar. The small pizza place down the street from our apartment was our favorite place to eat, even though most of the tables still had gum stuck under them and a few of the booth seats were beginning to rip. The menus were faded and had markings all over them and the bathrooms weren't the cleanest. But the food was amazing; I didn't like the place for the ambiance._

_Travis nearly choked on his pizza and had to take a long drink of Coke before he could reply. "Did you answer?" he finally asked, putting his slice of pizza back on the plate._

_"Yeah, I did." Travis made a show of choking on his soda. "Stop that," I said. "It's not that big of a deal."_

_Travis chuckled. "It kind of is. You and Marie haven't talked in, what, three months? And suddenly she's calling you? And you're_ answering _?"_

_I rolled my eyes. He was being dramatic, as always. "She saw the news and you know what that means?"_

_"End of times?"_

_"End of times."_

_Travis took another bite of his cheese pizza. "Maybe she's right," he said after he'd swallowed. I sighed heavily, already knowing what was coming. "Maybe the four Horsemen are gonna swoop down and smite us―"_

_"That's not even what happens," I commented._

_Travis shrugged. "Doesn't matter," he replied. "If Marie has her way, we're all doomed. The details are unimportant."_

_"Maybe there's a reason she doesn't like you."_

_"Why? Because I'm too much like you?"_

_I snorted. "Exactly."_

_Travis stood suddenly, putting on his coat. "Where are you going?" I asked him._

_"Let's go," he said. "If the world's ending, I'm having sex with my fiancee at least one more time. Two, if Little Trav is up to it."_

_My mouth dropped open at the naming of his junk. "You're so―"_

_"Marriage-worthy?"_

_"Sure," I said as I stood and let him drape his arm over my shoulder. "That's exactly what I was gonna say."_

 


	10. Dancing with the Devil

Negan, Olivia, and I were sitting outside in the backyard. Negan was between Olivia and I, Lucille propped against the chair between his knees. One of his hands was resting on the table that was in front of us, his fingers tapping along to some unknown beat, while the other was on his thigh. I still had the gun on me and I wasn't sure what to do with it, so I leaned it against the chair, much like Negan had done with Lucille. Olivia was shaking and silently crying on Negan's other side, but I did my best to ignore her. Listening to her cries would only make killing her harder than it was already going to be.

"Pretty excitin', isn't it?" Negan asked suddenly, glancing sidelong at me. I forced myself to look at him, but didn't reply. "When you kill Olivia―" Negan shot an almost apologetic look towards Olivia "―sorry, _if_ you kill Olivia, will she be your first?" Negan smiled at me, a brow cocked curiously.

I licked my lips and looked away. "No," I replied quietly.

"Sorry, darlin', what was that?"

"No," I said more clearly.

Negan stared at me for a second before replying. "Well, look at you. A little killer already. So, how many have you killed, princess? Two, three?"

Gritting my teeth, I said, "I don't know."

"Oh! So many that you lost count!" Negan's hand patted me on the shoulder in mock sympathy. "Looks like we have somethin' in common after all."

I flinched away from his touch. "I'm nothing like you," I spat. I wasn't sure where this sudden bout of courage had come from, but I knew I was teetering dangerously close to the edge, and if I fell off, well―that would be it for me. But I couldn't seem to stop myself. "I don't like killing, I do it to survive. You―you're just a monster."

Olivia sniffled for the hundredth time and Negan held a hand up to her. "Could you shut up for a minute?" he said, keeping his eyes trained on me. Olivia immediately went silent. "Someone's awfully brave all of a sudden. I like this new you. Much more...Savior-like. But I'll have you know that every person I've killed was in order to survive."

"Killing Rick's people―"

"Was to make sure Rick worked for me," Negan finished. "I control these people, right, Olivia?" He didn't wait for her to answer, though, just kept talking. "They work for me, they provide for _me_. That's how I survive. Fear and respect. And look at the fuckin' life I live now, Maddie."

"Madison."

Negan ignored this too. "Maddie, you know what I like about you―what kept me from killin' you the other night when I should have bashed your fuckin' skull in? You may be dumb as shit and it seems you might just have a death wish, but you learn fast. And you're kinda pretty, too." Negan smiled at me.

"Wow, thanks."

Negan had turned in his chair to look at me full-on. "You don't really wanna die, do you, Maddie?" he asked. "That's why you're gonna kill Olivia?" I clenched my jaw and looked away. "Look at me when I'm talkin' to you." I looked up at him. "You wanna survive. You've killed _countless_ people to make it this far. So why not embrace the gift I've given you and enjoy it?"

Negan and I stared at each other in silence for a long moment, but before I could reply, Arat came around the corner. Negan tore his gaze from mine, looking up at the woman. "What is it?" he asked. "I'm kind of in the middle of something."

Arat looked from me to Negan. "They can't find the guns," she said in that confident voice of hers. "What do you wanna do?"

Olivia was crying now, loud once again. Negan clamped a hand on her shoulder and stood, motioning for me to follow. "I wanna have some fun," he replied to Arat with a grin.

Once we had rounded the corner and were standing back in the street with a defeated-looking Rick, Negan made a show of looking around. "Where are my guns, Rick? _Please_ tell me you found my guns!" he exclaimed, one hand on Olivia's trembling shoulder, the other wrapped tightly around Lucille. Everyone was standing in the street, waiting to see what would happen. I was pretty certain everyone knew what was going to happen.

Rick pursed his lips. "We'll figure it out," he said in a shaky voice. "Please, just let us―"

"Let you what, Rick? Your only option―the one thing that would save sweet Olivia's life―was to find my guns. And you couldn't even do that." Negan smirked and took a step closer to Rick. "I'm disappointed in you, Rick."

My heart was racing. I knew what was coming. Any second, Negan was going to tell me to shoot this poor girl and I would either pull the trigger or I would freeze up and get us both killed. There was no happy ending to this scenario. I took a steadying breath, trying to fight the dizziness that was threatening to overthrow me.

The moment I had been dreading came far too soon. Negan's gaze landed on me. "Maddie, it's your time to shine," he said. "Now, you just point and shoot―what am I talking about? You know what you're doing. You've done this loads of times." Negan was grinning at me, waiting for me to do what I'd _done loads of times_. Everyone was.

Saying a silent prayer to whoever might be listening out there, I took a breath and held the gun up, the butt of it against my shoulder. "I'm sorry," I whispered, and pulled the trigger.

 

 


	11. Control

"Oh, shit!" Negan exclaimed as Olivia's lifeless body fell to the ground with a _thump!_ "I didn't actually think you'd do it!"

My hands were shaking―my whole body was trembling―and I swallowed the bile in my throat. Every time I killed someone who hadn't already died once, it was like this switch went off in my head. My breathing would become shallow and my body would shake, my vision became blurred and I felt like I was going to pass out.

A hand clamped down on my arm and spun me around. Rosita was standing inches away, her nails digging into my skin as she looked at me in disgust. Her other hand came up and slapped me, hard, across the face. I felt tears in my eyes from the stinging, but didn't move. I deserved it, I deserved everything these people threw at me. I'd just killed their friend.

"You're a coward," Rosita said, releasing me with a shove. "You're no better than Negan, no better than any of them."

"I'm―" I started.

"Go to Hell," she said and spat at my feet before walking away.

Everyone was staring at me, most in disdain. I took a breath and looked at Negan, who was grinning. "That one is feisty," he said. Negan sighed wistfully, then cleared his throat and turned to Rick. "See that, Rick? That's what happens when you don't have everybody on board." Rick swallowed. "I want those guns," Negan continued. "And I'm gonna come back everyday and kill another one of your people until I get them. Do we have an understanding, Rick?"

Rick hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah," he said hoarsely.

"Good! I'll see you tomorrow." Negan clapped Rick on the shoulder with a grin.

The Saviors started loading everything up and Negan slipped his arm over my shoulders, leading me towards the gate. Neither of us said anything, which was a relief since Negan always seemed to have something to say. My body had finally stopped trembling, leaving only my hands shaking. It seemed my initial shock was beginning to pass. I'd killed someone. It wasn't the first time and I was sure it wouldn't be the last. But no matter what happened or how many people I had to kill for Negan in order to survive, I promised myself that I would never become like him. I'd rather die.

No matter what Rosita said, I wasn't like Negan. I killed because I had to. Negan―as much as he tried to convince me that he killed to survive as well―was a cold-blooded murderer. I wasn't like him and I wouldn't allow myself to be.

* * *

It had been barely a day since we'd left Alexandria, since I'd killed Olivia and since Rosita had done what everyone else there must have wanted to do. They all hated me and I couldn't blame them one bit. I was terrible, a horrible human being. There were so few actual humans left and the fact that I was letting Negan force me to do things the way he wanted, to do awful things like killing innocent people, made me sick.

But there wasn't really anything to do about it now. It was too late. Olivia was dead because of me, because I had let Negan get to me. Because I was a coward. I had no friends, no family. The people I had initially taken up for and tried to help were now my enemies. What was there left to do? I couldn't escape the Saviors. And even if I did, where would I go? I was too chicken-shit to tell Negan off, to go back to living like Daryl was living now. It was either die or live the way the Saviors lived. At least until I had a chance to do something about it. Because I would not let myself be like them. I couldn't.

I was standing outside with Arat. She was supposed to be teaching me to shoot, but she every time I tried and failed, she would get aggravated and sigh heavily, then she would simply tell me it was wrong. She was a horrible teacher, or maybe she just didn't like me. I wasn't sure why. I was doing everything I could to try and make these people believe that I was going to be one of them. Maybe I just wasn't so believable.

We heard footsteps and turned to see Negan approaching. Arat immediately went to one knee and, when I didn't follow suit, she grabbed my arm and yanked me to the ground beside her.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed, Newbie?" she asked under her breath.

"At ease, soldiers!" Negan exclaimed cheerfully. Arat and I stood. "Arat, how's the training comin'?"

Arat shot me a look. "She don't know shit about guns," she said.

"Maybe I'd learn something if you would actually teach me," I retorted.

Negan quirked a brow at me. "You seemed to know somethin' when you shot poor Olivia between the eyes yesterday."

"I don't wanna talk about that," I said quietly.

"Well, I don't give a shit what you want, darlin'. I'm in charge. In fact, come with me. You, me, and Daryl are taking a trip back to Alexandria today."

I swallowed. I didn't want to go back to Alexandria. I knew that Negan was probably going to make either Daryl or I kill the next person if Rick hadn't found those two guns. But I couldn't bring myself to say anything to Negan. He wouldn't give a shit, anyway. The only person Negan cared about was himself.

So I reluctantly followed after him, knowing this day was probably going to be worse than the day before.


	12. Not Today

The ride back to Alexandria was silent, aside from Negan's cheery whistling. My stomach was in knots as I prayed Rick had been able to find the two missing guns. Who would Negan decide should die today, if Rick had failed? And which of us―me or Daryl―would he force to do it? I had a feeling it would be me. Daryl seemed pretty broken, willing to comply. Whatever they had done to him seemed to have worked. Me, on the other hand, I was fairly certain Negan wasn't satisfied with the little I'd done. I wasn't sure he'd ever be satisfied.

Negan stopped the truck outside the gates of Alexandria with a slight _screech_. He turned to me as the gates around the community started opening, his mouth turned up in a wicked grin, and winked. He'd known that Rick would be waiting for him, that everyone was probably just as nervous as Daryl and I were about what was going to happen today.

"We found the guns," Rick said as we approached him. He was standing so that he was blocking our entrance into Alexandria, Rosita and two others standing behind him.

Daryl and I were standing silently behind Negan, waiting to see what he was going to do next. I was pretty certain he was determined to see someone die today, guns or no guns, but I prayed I was wrong. I knew Daryl wouldn't kill any of these people, no matter how beaten down and broken he was. But me? I'd already done it once, everyone hated my guts. But I was not going to let myself become like Negan or like any of the other Saviors. They were monsters.

"Why, Rick," Negan said, knocking shoulders with Rick as he passed him and entered Alexandria, Daryl and I quickly following behind him, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to get rid of me."

Rick didn't reply, just closed the gates. Rosita was looking at Negan and I in disgust and hatred, her arms crossed over her chest. I looked away from her, my gaze returning to Negan, who was already looking at me curiously. My heart skipped a beat, afraid that he was going to make me do something terrible again, but he just smirked and turned back to Rick.

"So who had the guns?" Negan asked him.

Rick squared his shoulders. "That doesn't matter now," he replied, taking a small bag from Rosita and passing it to Negan.

Negan opened the pouch and pulled out the two small pistols, looking them over. "Oh, but it does matter. So tell me, Rick: which of your people ain't board?"

Rick remained silent, but I half-expected him to take responsibility for the guns himself.

Negan laughed, apparently deciding to let it go, at least for the moment. "Well, I didn't come all this way just to go back home. You got 'nything for me?"

Rick clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides. "You took everything yesterday," he said through gritted teeth.

"Well, how about this? You take some people, you go find me some shit to take back, and I'll wait here."

"We were supposed to have a week," Rosita said angrily. "You've been here two days in a row."

Negan cocked a brow at her. "You want me to make it three, sweetheart?" Rosita didn't say anything, though she was obviously fuming. "Then you get out there and find me somethin' worth a damn!"

We stood there, waiting for Rick to gather a few people and leave, and then Negan turned to me with a smirk. "Maddie," he said, "you and Daryl go to the pantry. I need ingredients for spaghetti."

"Where are you going?" I found myself asking.

Negan winked at me. "I'm gonna go find Carl." He looked to Daryl. "Meet you back at Rick's place." And then he was walking away, absentmindedly swinging Lucille back and forth beside him.

Daryl looked as if he wanted to follow Negan, probably to stop him from bothering Carl, but he turned on his heel and stalked off. I hurried to catch up to him. This was my chance to talk to him again, to try to get him to understand my side of things. Maybe then he could get the others to understand and to forgive me, if he ever got the chance. Or maybe this was all just a wasted effort. Either way, I wouldn't know until I tried.

There was someone new in charge of the food and weapons today and my heart ached in remembrance of what I'd done the day before. Would Olivia still be here if I had refused to kill her? Of course, I knew the answer to that. Olivia wouldn't be here and neither would I.

After Daryl and I had gotten everything Negan required to make his spaghetti and it had been catalogued, we headed for Rick's house.

"Daryl," I said. He ignored me and kept walking. I grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at me. "Listen to me, goddammit."

When he was finally looking at me, or rather, glaring at me, I sighed and dropped my hand from his arm. "You think this is what I want?" I said. "To do whatever Negan says? Do you think I _wanted_ to kill Olivia? That's not who I am. And everyone seems to have forgotten that I'm in this position because I was sticking up for all of you."

Daryl was still glaring at me. "We didn't ask you to," he replied, turning and walking away.


End file.
